Where I Stood
by Squillyfer
Summary: This was their swan song.Brennan finds that moving on isnt the same as letting go just as Booth learns that some things are worth fighting for. Two-shot
1. Who I am

**My next attempt at beating off writers block :) not really sure how this one's turned out since it pretty much gushed out and didnt take all that long to write so we'll see. Song is Where I stood by Missy Higgins and just about breaks my heart.**

**Reviews as always appreciated**

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**Disclaimer: I dont own Bones**

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**Where I stood**

_I don't know what I've done  
Or if I like what I've begun  
But something told me to run  
And honey you know me it's all or none_

_There were sounds in my head_  
_Little voices whispering_  
_That I should go and this should end_  
_Oh and I found myself listening_

She isn't surprised that he's found his way to her door. She knew he'd come when he found out.

She just wishes he hadn't.

* * *

He'd thought they'd work out. She'd thought things would be fine even if they didn't. They were both wrong in the end, equal in all measures even in their demise. Logically she should have been able to accept that these things happened, that relationships ended and people moved on.

But love and logic hadn't been kind of late.

There hadn't been anything particularly wrong with the life they'd built. It just wasn't what they'd expected; it didn't follow the script they'd spent five long years writing, or rather they'd started the play but missed out all the stage directions. They had the story, the words, just no way to get from A to B, from start to finish, from first date to happily ever after.

They had been happy; she could admit that at least. For the four months that they'd spent together bliss had been a default emotion. It had been everything they'd hoped. Their tipping point in the end hadn't been a grand declaration of undying love but rather a peck on the cheek in thanks that simply migrated in a westerly direction until his lips were on hers. Then her body was under his. In the morning they woke side by side.

The perfect partnership.

Before they'd even stopped to think and take stock her keys shared a spot beside his on a table by the door, his home was her home, her clothes filtered their way into his draws and they consumed one another until their lives merged to the point where they ceased to be separate. They were one. Whole. The way it was supposed to be.

Or at least that's how the fairy-tale goes.

Then again she never really did believe in fairy-tales.

In line with all the most sickening cliché's she doesn't even remember what the fight was about, that final fight, that first real fight. She just remembers that one day things were fine and the next everything was different. She remembers the venom in her voice but not the words. She can recall the hardened expression on his face as she told him she was leaving, going back to her apartment to sleep for the first time in weeks, but she can't recall the harsh words of his reply, only that he did reply… and that she did leave.

It was only supposed to be one night, she knew that much. Even now she's clueless as to why she didn't just go to him the following day or him to her. She just didn't, he just didn't, and one night turned into two, then three, then four, then a box of her things appeared in her office and Angela was telling her he hadn't left a message. She'd looked at that box for two whole days before unpacking her things, residing herself to the fact that they were destined to permanently dwell in her apartment rather than that of the FBI agent or any home they may share. He'd packed everything barring a lavender coloured shirt she'd worn there once. She told herself she'd been careless with it or he'd misplaced it in the wash but alone at night a traitorous part of her whispered that he'd kept it knowingly.

She'd pushed the thought away and rolled over, begging for sleep to come mercifully soon that night.

Before their meeting with Sweets a week later they'd had 'the talk'. They agreed that anything between them could never be as important as the work they did. So it hadn't worked out, so what. At least now they knew and they could move on. No more what-ifs. They were friends before, they could do that again.

It was supposed to set them free.

It was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship and she'd never felt more trapped in her life.

She tried, she really did. She told herself that she could compartmentalise but try as she might Seeley Booth refused to fit in the boxes she attempted to cram him into, their relationship refused to be packed away. There was too much crossover.

And still they'd soldiered on, playing the roles they'd assigned themselves. Things were supposed to be how they used to be, and to an observer perhaps they were. They did their jobs well, laughed at each others jokes, and shared coffee at lunch. But things weren't like before; they could never be like before. Their jobs were now the only thing they shared a passion for, their laughs were hollow, joyless, and the coffee's they shared were all they shared as they sat there face to face in the diner with the weight of their ill-fated relationship expanding to fill the space between them until they were drowning in misspent opportunities and things they could have said.

Subtlety had never been her strong point and she couldn't pretend like him. Her mother had once told her that knowledge was a dangerous thing; something learnt can never be un-learnt. She knew that now when she tried to forget the way Booth's skin tasted beneath her tongue, attempted to hide her sense of loss at the absence of his hand on her lower back, tried to pretend she didn't know what it was like to love him…

He'd ruined her by changing her ideals ... and now she had to be his best friend.

She wasn't angry though, never at him, because she knew it wasn't one sided. She knew that when she blinked back tears he was swallowing his own, when she woke in the night it was because he tossed and turned in his own bed, that when her heart tugged it was his that felt the corresponding ache of the rip. Pretending was hurting him just as much as her. He was just better at hiding it. He at least tried to 'move on'. He went out with his friends, was closer to his brother, played ball with Parker. He at least tried a normal life, the life they'd had before their life together.

Unfortunately for her part of the 'Seeley Booth twelve step programme for moving on' included moving forward, stagnancy apparently wasn't living and moving forward involved moving forward with other people.

He was better at moving on than her.

It wasn't malicious, at least she could know that. Hell, part of her wanted him to flaunt the women he dated, for it to be real. Maybe then she could accept it. But he didn't and there weren't several women, just the one.

She found that worse somehow, it wasn't a fling, he didn't do that.

He'd done everything right, been as sensitive as possible. He'd been the perfect ex-lover, the perfect friend and gentleman as he'd informed her that he was dating again then preceded to keep said date tucked neatly away where she'd never have to meet her. She thinks now that that was the plan, for the two women to never meet, for the lines in his life to never blur again. She was his partner, Hannah his lover. It was the perfect plan.

Their relationship had taught her that perfect didn't exist.

It was an accident really, the chance occurance that had lead to the spiral of events that resulted in her throwing clothes into a bag late at night and him finding his way to her door. She'd only gone to the office to give him paperwork.

She never even got as far as the front desk.

He was stood by his car, a stunning blonde she knew was Hannah, by his side. The other woman was beautiful, and she was kissing him. He pulled away smiling with a promise of dinner but she knew that smile. Brennan had shared his life for almost seven years and she knew that smile. It was resigned, defeated, accepting.

He was settling.

He caught sight of her by her own car as Hannah walked away in the opposite direction. She didn't try to smile at him, it didn't matter, it was over, their cover was blown, the time for lying was finished. She closed her eyes breathing deeply. He made no attempt to bridge to physical distance between them but rather stared at her soft form from his 25 feet distance. She opened her eyes and flicked them quickly to Hannah's retreating form before looking back to him ,searching for the truth. She pleaded with her eyes, wanting to know the right thing to do all the time knowing he was the one person who couldnt tell her. She wanted to know how to heal this, how to heal them.

She saw the answer in his eyes, in the tinge of pink left on his lips, in the sad smile me offered her.

'Okay' she whispered to herself. 'Okay, enough now'.

She slipped back into her own car and drove away. The report could be emailed. He'd moved on, and she owed it to him to do the same, she wouldn't hurt him anymore. She'd let him go for the both of them. He was trying not to hurt her but he had a real chance with Hannah and anything he still felt for her was stopping that. But not anymore. It was over, she wouldn't do this to them anymore, she wouldn't destroy them. She could move on, she could do that for him.

It took her just twelve hours to equate moving on to moving away. Letting go of him meant letting go of the things he had taught her and her default reaction was to run.

* * *

And now here he was, standing at her door asking for answers he didn't want and couldn't understand.

'Bones?'

She didn't speak, not yet, just turned and walked back into the apartment leaving the door open behind her. He followed as usual, like her shadow on the wall even now.

They should have been beautiful.

It had taken her until now to realise they had been, their beauty had just come in a different form to others. This was her final gift to him.

This was their swan-song

_'Cos I dont know who I am, who I am without you_  
_All I know is that I should_  
_And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you_  
_All I know is that I should_  
_'Cos she will love you more than I could_  
_She who dares to stand where I stood_

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**Reviews are always welcome pretty please :) I'll try to get part 2 (the conclusion) up tomorrow :)**


	2. You meant more to me than anyone

**Ok so I would have had this up early but my internet connection has been on the blink. I'm not entirely happy with the outcome of this fic, its not actually the fic I set out to do when i sat down to write but maybe its just something I needed to get out of my system and I am always intrigued by the idea of how BB would cope should their relationship not work and it isnt an avenue explored very often in fanfiction so maybe thats where this came from. Anyways, here it is and let me know what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: I dont own Bones and this isnt beta'd so any errors are my own**

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**Part 2**

**See I thought love was black and white**

**That it was wrong or it was right**

**But you aint leaving without a fight**

**And I thing I am just as torn inside**

'**Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you**

**All I know is that I should**

**And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you**

**All I know is that I should**

'**Cos she will love you more than I could**

**She who dares to stand where I stood**

'_This was their swansong'_

He follows her into the apartment bombarded by memories. It's a simple action he's done a hundred times before.

The simple crossing of a threshold. Entering her home. Crossing over into her life.

Its something he's tried to avoid lately. He hasn't been to her home since before the break-up. He glances around and notices that nothing's really changed; the only thing that's changed is them.

She turns to him and he sees a haunted look in her eyes that he's never seen before. It's a look that says goodbye and it terrifies him.

When he started his relationship with Hannah it was forced, a device to help him move on from the sparky brunette he still had to see everyday. To start with it was hard, every event turned into a comparison, every kiss, ever touch he compared to Brennan. Then things shifted and he found that he really did enjoy Hannah's company. She was a nice girl, smart and funny, good family values.

Booth found he could remember how things were before his short lived romance with the forensic anthropologist before him. He could remember what it was like to date, the thrill of a fresh relationship, and he'd naively thought that if he could just keep Hannah and Brennan from ever setting eyes on each other then maybe this whole thing could work out. He could have his best friend and a girlfriend. Then he saw her in the parking lot and the whole plan had fallen apart. He knew then, as she'd slowly nodded and blinked back tears, that she'd run.

To the best of his knowledge she hadn't cried at all when they'd broken up.

He'd be lying if he said part of him hadn't expected this, he just wasn't expecting it now. When they'd split he'd expected her to be on the first plane out of D.C.. It was how she dealt with stuff like this, or so he'd thought. Turns out he'd underestimated her. She'd stuck around, even agreeing to the ridiculous 'just friends' status they'd attempted to revert to.

He wasn't stupid, he knew she was struggling. Temperance Brennan was a woman who craved constancy in her life and he'd gone and shook things up then asked her to act like none of it had ever happened. The break up wasn't his fault, it wasn't either of their faults, but the way she'd struggled in the weeks and months that had followed, that was his fault. He should have been there, should have let her off the deal they'd made, let her avoid him and ask for a new partner. As her friend he should have given her that. As the man in love with her he should have given her that.

She sits now, hands in her lap and a steely expression on her face. He knows what it means. She wants this over quickly. She's made up her mind and wants to put her plan into action as soon as possible. His visit is a formality she wants out of the way. He gets straight to the point.

'You're leaving me.'

It isn't an accusation it's a fact, the wording of it intentional. She answers as though she hasn't noticed the personal reference.

'Who told you? Angela? I asked her not to but I knew she'd tell you.'

'Angela's a good friend; she's just looking out for you. Besides, I already knew what you'd do. I know you remember.'

He means it as an offhand comment but it stirs something within her and she stands, moving away from him to the opposite side of the couch. Her voice is cool and calm but the arms she wraps around herself and the way she refuses to meet his eyes with her own betray her inner turmoil.

'No Booth, you knew me. And to answer you, yes I'm leaving. I'm not leaving you but I am leaving.'

'Aren't they one and the same?'

She meets his eyes.

'No. I can't leave you if I'm not with you.'

He shakes his head slightly and runs a hand across his face, the other settling on his hip. He wants to tell her how things are, how he cares about Hannah but isn't in love with her, how he knows she's wonderful and yet he cant bring himself to do more than kiss her lest her touch remind him of the woman before him now.

'Look, about Hannah…'

She interrupts.

'She's beautiful Booth. I…she looks like she makes you happy.'

He answers with blunt honesty.

'You made me happy.'

She sucks in a deep breath and gives him a sad smile.

'Made. Past tense Booth. Why are we even doing this? Its over, has been for months. We didn't work and now…And now… we just…move on'

'Why? Because I said so? Because I said we should make things how they were before?'

'No, because that's what people do Booth. Relationships end all the time. People cope. People move on.'

'But ours shouldn't have ended and…and we're not coping, I'm not coping, you aren't coping. I miss you and I don't want to…'

She holds up a hand and squeezes her eyes tight shut.

'Stop ok, just…stop.'

He pauses and watches as she opens her eyes, taking a fractional step towards him. He mirrors the step.

'Please don't do this, don't …don't tell me you wish things were different because they aren't and we have to live with that. I have to live with that. And I can be your friend and I can want you to be happy but I won't…I'm not…I can't watch you be with her.'

He swallows and steps forward to say his piece, to absolve her misguided guilt but she isn't finished and continues, even as her voice thickens with unshed tears.

'I'm sorry, I really am and if that makes me a bad person, a bad friend then so be it but I'm just not as good as you at pretending. I can't watch you with her and pretend it doesn't affect me and I don't think that you can do that either so I'm ending it.'

He wants to hold her, to make her happy again, to drive the pain from her voice and keep her there, with him forever.

'I'm taking myself out of the equation and I'm making it stop. One way or another we have to stop hurting each other and this is the only way I can think to…'

She stops then. Not because of the tears running freely and unchecked down her cheeks but because of the lips of her partner. He steps to her side in neat even paces as she speaks and presses his mouth against hers in desperation, drinking from her like a man dying of thirst even as his own tears slip from beneath his eyelids and mingle with hers.

His arms encircle her completely, her own hands trapped between them as she kisses him back with a need and ferocity to match his own.

They've missed this.

'Please don't go…please, stay…I'll do anything just please don't go.'

He kisses her hair, burying his face in the dark locks as they sob together, clinging to each other like a lifeline in a storm.

They have reached their breaking point.

'I have to go.'

Her voice is a choked whisper.

'No, you don't, you don't have to go. I'll…I'll break up with Hannah if that's what you want, even if you don't want us to be together I can…I wont date again, I can do that for you.'

She pushes him away slightly.

'No, don't you see, this has to stop. I can't ask that of you and you shouldn't offer it. I'm not leaving because of Hannah, not really, not directly. I'm leaving because I don't know who I am anymore. I've let myself be defined in terms of you and that's not good, that isn't good for either of us. To have your happiness wholly dependant on another person, that's…'

'It's called love.'

'No. It isn't. Love is being made a better person because you're with someone who completes you, it's the enhancement of positive traits, its trusting someone else to let you flourish. That isn't what we did for each other Booth; it isn't what we're doing. I…I do love you but…we're not good for each other. I don't…I don't know who I am anymore, and this breakup…I need to leave. I need to do this.'

He drops his arms from around her and speaks in a whisper.

'I love you.'

She sniffles to hold back more tears. The time for crying is gone.

'I know…but it isn't enough anymore.'

He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at the carpet.

'Was it ever enough?'

She sighs again and steps back, this won't help.

'This is for the best Booth, for both of us.'

'How? How is you being a million miles away going to be 'best for me'?'

'I won't be a million miles away. I…I don't know where I'm going yet.'

'That's not the point and you know it. I mean will you be gone forever? Is this 'goodbye' or is it just 'see you later'?'

'I don't know ok, I don't know.'

He moves to her again, cradling her face in his hands.

'Then don't do it. Stay, just for a while. Give us another shot and then…and then if you still want to go I wont stop you, hell I'll even drive you to the airport myself. Just please, don't do this now.'

He kisses her again and she kisses him back, getting lost in the moment. His lips are as soft as she remembers, his arms as safe and solid as they've felt in her recent dreams. She loves him and she probably always will but that doesn't mean they're 'meant to be', it just means they had a chance once.

What was the saying? If you love something set it free, if it's meant to be it'll come back to you.

She needs to find out if she'd come back.

So she lets him kiss her. She lets him hold her and carry her to her bedroom and she lets him love her. They love and cry and love again until all harsh words are lost in beautiful sentiments spoken in a lovers hushed tone. And in the morning, as she watches his calm sleeping face resting against her own pillow, part of her almost stays and she's willing to lose herself in him all over again. But she is a woman of two halves.

She doesn't know whether it's the stronger or weaker half of her that prevails that morning.

What takes more strength: leaving to find yourself or staying to lose yourself?

She doesn't know but whatever the case she slips from the bed, writes him a note and leaves the apartment, leaving her life there behind. Leaving him behind.

* * *

He wakes to the sound of a door closing, both real and metaphorical.

He knows in an instant that she's gone and he knows better than to chase her.

Minutes later when he leaves the bed and wanders through the apartment, noting what items she had packed in her hasty exit, he discovers her note. He clutches it gently in shaking hands, not wanting to crease the paper than may be the last he ever has of her.

_**Booth,**_

_**A good friend once told me two very important things. **_

_**Firstly '**__**Everything**__** happens eventually' and secondly 'Not **__**everything**__** changes'.**_

_**For both of these things to be true one would have to conclude, against my initial judgements, that the truly important events in our lives are pre-destined and that the words and actions that lead to them are within us all along. So, when things happen, as they inevitably do, it isn't a change so much as a shift towards the inevitable and in that respect not a change at all but instead simply a continuation down a different branch of the path you were always following.**_

_**I'm following my path.**_

_**Be happy,**_

_**Temperance**_

He exhales and lets a small smile take up residence on his lips. She's gone and he doesn't know where or when she'll be back.

But she will be back.

That much he knows, they are inevitable.

In leaving she thinks she is setting him free. He can do the same.

If you love something you set it free, if it's meant to be it'll come back.

She'll be back.

And he'll be waiting.

**And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call**

**You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all**

**But you taught me how to trust myself and so I say to you**

**This is that I have to do**

'**Cos I don't know who I am, who I am without you**

**All I know is that I should**

**And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you**

**All I know is that I should**

'**Cos she will love you more than I could**

**She who dares to stand where I stood**

**Oh she who dares to stand where I stood**

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:) What did you think?


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